To Promise
by Trinkets for Tall Tales
Summary: Link seeks Talon's permission to wed Malon, only to be refused it. He feels his only option is to leave what he knows behind, including, for the time being, Malon. Link/Malon. Post Ocarina of Time.


**So, this story's a bit sad and a bit random. It came to me on a whim, but perhaps some of you will like it. Very minor spoilers for Ocarina of Time.**

* * *

"Wait for me in the fields tonight; I'll have a surprise" had been Link's words, sweet with excitement. Yet Malon had paced the ground four times over, the moonlight gleaming on her face. And Link hadn't come. Malon frowned thoughtfully. Link was never one to play jokes, and waiting for nothing was not amusing.

* * *

"Come in," Talon had called heartily. He was sitting on a stool in the stables, polishing a horseshoe, as Link crept in shyly.

"Morning, Mr. Talon, sir," Link rubbed at the back of his neck clumsily.

Talon glanced up, grinning at the apple red cheeks of the hero, "Somethin' on your mind, son?"

"Y-yes," Link managed awkwardly, "It's about…Malon."

Talon chuckled, well aware that Link had been courting Malon for the past two years. "Yes, what about my daughter?" he prompted.

"I'd like your permission to marry her," Link elaborated, shifting his weight from one foot to the other awkwardly.

Talon raised his eyebrows, his hands stilling, the rag freezing over metal. "I—I plan to ask her tonight, with your consent," Link filled the silence with unneeded words.

"Link," Talon exhaled slowly, inspecting Link from head to toe like an insect, "You're a nice kid, of course, and I don't mean to offend you by any means. But—but your income, son. How much do you make with that business of yours?"

Link's breath left him in a rush, casting his eyes down to his boots. "I…I get by, sir," was his stammered reply.

"Link, son, please don't take it to heart," Talon exclaimed, standing to his feet and patting Link's shoulder, "I wish every man in Hyrule had a heart of gold like yours. But Malon's the apple of my eye; I can't just give my only child to someone who can't give her the proper care."

Link remained steadfastly silent. "If I knew for certain that you could provide for my darling, it'd be different," Talon mumbled, attempting comfort.

Link glimpsed up, avoiding Talon's pitying eyes and biting his lip, "I understand, sir. Excuse me, please."

Link walked out, his composure still intact. Talon sighed, sitting back on his stool, never meaning to harm the boy.

* * *

Malon recognized that something must be wrong. Link's promises were not frivoulous things easily broken like twigs. She mounted the new mare, Flax, and galloped through Hyrule Field, through Castle Town, dismounting when the alleyways were too narrow to go farther. A candle still glowed in the window of the shop she knew so well.

She walked in unannounced, Link's anvil sitting unoccupied before her. He was the best blacksmith in Castle Town, she always told him so. She often sat on a stool beside him, her face propped on her hands as Link pounded away at a sword with his hammer, sparks setting the air afire. The sight was mesmerizing, and if she was lucky, Link would sometimes accompany the show with a story of his adventures in saving the world. Malon always liked his stories.

Link stopped, petrified at the sight of Malon standing in the doorway. "You…never came," she said finally, feeling as if she could cry.

Emotion tortured Link's features, leaving him unable to answer audibly. Instead, he simply opened his arms. Malon rushed into them without a moment's hesitation, absorbing the comfort of Link's embrace as he kissed her hair. Her arms holding him tightly, she peeped over her shoulder, spotting his satchel stuffed like a pillow. She gasped sharply, jerking away. "You're…you're leaving?" she enunciated slowly, allowing the notion to sink in.

Link blinked his eyes furiously, resting his forehead against Malon's, "I have to."

"For how long?" was her question.

"A long time," were his gradual and reluctant words.

Tears seeped from beneath Malon's long lashes as she shook her head frantically, "You can't! Why would you do that?"

"I need to…do more with myself," Link said shakily, trying to pull Malon closer, but she wouldn't allow him to do so.

"What are you talking about?" she demanded tearfully, "What about your work here? What about me?"

She felt so small, so timid and dependent, but she needed him. She breathed Link's name as she woke up every morning, the joy he drew out from her fueled her. She loved him so deeply.

"My work's not enough," Link murmured, his voice heavy with despair.

"Why wouldn't you tell me?" Malon cried, her eyes tinted a paler green behind tears, "You wouldn't even say goodbye?"

"I was going to write you a letter," Link said weakly, surrendering the fight.

"This is your surprise?" Malon sobbed, clapping her hand over her mouth, "I hate it!"

"No, no, please don't speak of that," Link begged, caressing Malon's cheek with one hand.

Moments passed. "Wait for me," Link whispered, "Pl-please. I need to know you'll wait."

"I don't know if I can trust you," Malon wept, hugging him anyways.

"Malon, please," he tried again, "Promise."

"I can't," Malon cried, "You won't tell me where you're going or what you're doing or why you can't stay with me here! I thought we were happy!"

"We were," Link sounded as if he could be crying too.

"I can't wait for you forever," Malon insisted, pulling back once more, "I can't promise that."

"Not forever," Link persuaded.

"But not soon," Malon finished bitterly, "How will we talk? Will you miss me at all?"

"I'll miss you with every breath I take," Link said.

Malon wiped her eyes on her kerchief, "But that's not enough for you to stay?"

"…I can't."

"Take me with you!" Malon interjected suddenly.

"Malon, your father," Link objected, "I can't upset him. He loves you and you love him; you need to stay."

Malon knew he was right; her home would always be the fields. She couldn't give that up, even for Link. "But so do you, Link."

He made no answer, making his disagreement obvious.

Malon steadied her breaths, regaining her balance. She leaned up on her tiptoes, kissing Link quickly. "I love you," she told him, "But I can't promise."

She wanted to know what was happening, but Link bit his lip to keep from telling her. She didn't know his pride was what kept him from revealing his plans. He'd risk her mistrust to prevent the humiliation that came with his poverty.

Link's shop was vacant the next morning, and Malon cried herself to sleep.

* * *

Two years passed. Malon remained pretty as a wildflower, but Talon worried as she grew older. She was stronger since Link's departure, but she refused to see any suitors while he was away. She'd lost her ability to love, she assumed. She also assumed Link had stolen it with that last kiss.

Talon was not patient, though. He was growing older too, and his brown beard was turning gray as a storm cloud. He arranged for Malon to meet with a young townsman once a week.

Malon listened politely, propped on the man's lap as he told her of his youth and his work. But his stories paled in contrast with the vivacity of Link's. And his smile wasn't nearly as charming, but she doubted any other man could woo her in quite the way that Link had. So she went on fixing the man's tea and feigning interest sweetly.

A few months of dull stories passed, and Talon consented to their engagement before Malon could blink. "Father!" she protested.

"He'll care for you-please understand, dearest!" Talon begged, clasping her hand in his, "You must be provided for—for my sake, please!"

Malon cried at the wedding, being thankful for her veil to mask the scene. Had it been her choice, she would have worn a black dress for the occasion rather than the elegant ivory pattern her husband had purchased. Her bouquet was of the wild roses that tangled themselves around the fence posts, the very ones Link used to pick for her. Her husband was handsome and wealthy and kind and horrible. He kissed her with an anticipation that Malon could not mimic after their "I do"s. Though she thought that as he was assisting her into the carriage, she saw a face. The face of a young man now older, watching her with sad, heartbroken eyes. He turned away, ducking into the crowd as the carriage dragged Malon to her new life.

* * *

Link was married. That was the gossip the ladies on the streets whispered when they came into Malon's parlor for cakes (her husband was very supportive of Malon finding female companionship at such proper and sociable events). Link had found a wife in the new exotic lands he was travelling, of course. Malon missed the fields and the horses and she cried when she heard. She didn't care for Link, she had thought. She was a married woman with a comfortable house in Castle Town. But her husband was always away, and Link had deserted her. She had sometimes dreamt that Link would come back for her, tap at her window and save her. Take her home to the fields and kiss her, wet and happy like a spring rain. But dreams were dreams for a reason.

* * *

_"Why won't you marry me?" Malon had teased, her stomach in the grass, ankles propped in the air as she plucked at the daisies. The cows grazed in the distance, just yet within sight._

_ "I could never marry you," Link grinned mischievously, "You'd drive me mad with your talk and your sewing and your cooking."_

_ "You love my cooking," Malon pouted, "And you shouldn't talk to me so often if it pains you so."_

_ Link chuckled, lying down beside her in the grass, placing a feathery kiss on her cheek, "I enjoy your talking. But your sewing, Malon, it's horrible."_

_ "I'd get better if you'd marry me," Malon muttered, "I'd make you a hundred quilts, each one warmer than the next, if you'd marry me."_

_ Link smiled softly, turning her chin and kissing her soundly, "One day, darling."_

* * *

Malon's husband fell ill. He died. They had been married five years. They had no children, so Malon inherited his fortune. She did cry at his burial, because then she was alone again. She decided to visit Talon at the farmhouse. Their embrace was tearful, but soothing for Malon. She swore to him she'd have no more to do with marriage and that she'd take care of him in her old age. She was stubborn, so he relented.

* * *

Talon told her one day, and Malon nearly wept in front of him. "F-father," she exclaimed, "why would you say such a thing to him? He's gone now, Father! He's gone because he felt unworthy!"

"I didn't want the two of you to starve," Talon cried, "He was so in love with you, Malon, I thought it had blinded him to reality! I only wanted you to be cared for! Please understand, my sweetheart!"

"I understand," Malon replied shakily, her hand pressed to her forehead, "I only wish—oh, how I wish I had known! I could've stopped him; we could have been s-so happy."

Malon sank to the floor, weeping. Talon buried his face in his hands with shame, his own shoulders trembling with sobs as well.

* * *

It was a year later. Malon still sold milk in the markets, one part of her childhood that clung to her even yet. It was a way of making some extra money for old Talon. She balanced the jug on her head skillfully, weaving her way through the streets, constructing her own kind of tapestry. She halted at the fountain, her heart leaping in her chest. There he sat, at the rim of the fountain. His elbows hanging over his knees and his hands clutched between them. He had horrible whiskers; Malon had always said he'd become a lion if he didn't shave. But they suited him, and Malon swooned at the sight of him as if they were still teenagers.

He spotted her, his blue eyes blank and wide. He stood and approached her, and Malon set the jar on the cobblestone. He didn't smile; Malon wasn't sure if he could. "Malon," he breathed, his voice deep and soft.

"It's you," she traced his whiskers fondly, "It's you."

A moment passed. "You've no wedding ring," she observed.

"I've never wed," he muttered, his eyes appearing hurt, "And I thought you weren't one to believe wild stories."

Malon was tormented; emotion pained her. She gazed at Link with a look she'd not shown in years, and he seemed to understand.

His hands rested on her hips, and she slipped her arms about his shoulders again. She kissed him as if not a day had passed, expelling the fire she'd kept caged within for so long. He was breathless as she pulled away, tears dampening his eyes. "Marry me?" he whispered, his voice strained.

"I will," Malon replied, nuzzling into his neck, "I swear, I will."

Link dipped his head, low enough so that he could kiss her again. He was crying, and so was she. "I have treasures," he told her, "I can build us a nice house and take care of you."

"Build it in the fields, near the brook. For I've wealth as well; we'll live a nice life together now," Malon told him, her hand over his racing heart, "I never forgot you once."

Link forced a laugh, "And how could I forget you? My beautiful Malon-given in marriage to another!"

"It was no choice of mine," Malon said, "I didn't mean to wait for you, I didn't desire to do so in the least! But how could I help it? I waited for you for years."

"Here I am," Link replied with a soft smile, "Don't leave me, please, just promise you won't go."

"I won't," Malon smiled back, pecking his lips, "Promise."

* * *

The wedding was simple. Malon made her own gown, and she thought that her sewing did splendidly. The crowd was very small due to small publicity. Talon watched with saddened eyes, his regret for his words to Link evident as he watched the hero take his daughter's hands in his own. Malon threw her arms around Link's neck at the permission of the priest, kissing him blissfully and without care. Link squeezed her close, returning the gesture. The applause was soft, but so was the sunset as Link helped Malon mount the horse. They chased after the beams of sunlight, waving goodbye to Talon and their past troubles as they vanished in the distance.

* * *

The house by the brook in the fields had been built. The children were in bed, and a fire crackled in the fireplace. Malon sat perched on Link's lap, happy as a lark, a blanket over both of them as snow fell outside. It was the most comfortable kind of familiar. Malon smiled naturally, nestling closer to Link. Link smiled back, his eyes shut peacefully, his hands warm on Malon's hip as he held her. "I love you," Malon whispered to him, running her hands through his hair, "I'll always love you, my hero."

Link gazed up at her, smiling contentedly. "I can't believe I got you," he confessed, "I thought…I thought I'd lost my chance."

"Nonsense," Malon stooped down to kiss his chin, the corner of his lips, the bridge of his nose, "I could never refuse you, I think."

Link wore his lazy grin, his eyes lidded with satisfaction as he stroked her hip, "My beautiful Malon; my wife."

"Yes, your wife," Malon echoed, lying down against him, shifting so that he might cradle her more efficiently, "Your wife, the simple farm girl that just so happened to catch the eyes of a hero."

"It did _not_ just so happen," Link corrected, nuzzling his nose into her auburn locks, "It was meant to, I'm sure of it. I love you too, Malon."

"I know you do," Malon happily said, "I now can say that I wholeheartedly know."

She slept soundly, not even waking as he scooped her into his arms and carried her to bed. And when she awoke the next day to the scent of Link and the sun leaking through their curtains, painting their room with light, she simply smiled, parting Link's hair from his face as he slumbered. It was all like a daydream for her. And Link had come to save her after all.


End file.
